MY PET FOX. 221 



once succeeded, she seemed determined not to be baf- 

 fled in her subsequent attempts. As long as I was 

 watching her she would be quiet enough, coiled up in 

 her bed or her tub of snow ; but the moment my eyes 

 were off her, or she thought me asleep, she worked 

 hard to effect her liberation. First she would draw 

 herself back as far as she could get, and then suddenly 

 darting forward, would bring up at the end of her 

 chain with a jerk which sent her reeling on the floor ; 

 then she would pick herself up, panting as if her little 

 heart would break, shake out her disarranged coat, 

 and try again. But this she would do with much de- 

 liberation. For a moment she would sit quietly down, 

 cock her head cunningly on one side, follow the chain 

 with her eye along its whole length to its fastening in 

 the floor, and then she would walk leisurely to that 

 point, hesitate a moment, and then make another 

 plunge. All this time she would eye me sharply, 

 and if I made any movement, she would fall down 

 at once on the floor and pretend sleep. 



She is a very neat and cleanly creature. She is 

 everlastingly brushing her clothes, and she bathes very 

 regularly in her bath of snow. This last is her great 

 delight. She roots up the clean white flakes with her 

 diminutive nose, rolls and rubs and half buries herself 

 in them, wipes her face with her soft paws, and when 

 all is over she mounts with her delicate fingers to the 

 side of the tub, looks around her very knowingly, 

 and barks the prettiest little bark that ever was 

 heard. This is her way of enforcing admiration ; and, 

 being now satisfied with her performance, she gives a 

 goodly number of shakes to her sparkling coat, and 

 then, happy and refreshed, she crawls to her airy bed 

 in the " bull's-eye " and sleeps. 



